Author: ILoveThesePeople

Word Count: 519

Rating: T

Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Romance

Characters/Pairings: Uther, Merlin/Arthur

Warnings: Character Deaths, Suicide, Horrible writing.

Summary: It was not his time and the fates could do nothing but sit back and watch as Camelot undid its own destiny and the Prince no longer became Once and Future.

A/N: I'm so sorry if this is confusing and if anything needs to be explained please tell me and I gladly will. I wrote this at 4:43 A.M. while going on zero hours of sleep and an empty stomach, so I'm sure it's addled and generally sucky. But I won't be posting for a while since I'm working desperately on updating CoS, so I figured I could post this.

Merlin, himself, is too many things to possible name. He is, by nature, unable to be defined, labeled, to an exact tee. For he is a contradiction, everything and nothing, everywhere and nowhere, light and dark. An oxymoron at its best. He was not meant to fall, his remains charred and unrecognizable. His time was not meant to be at the youthful age of twenty, his power- Unending, Immortal, Unwavering- bleeding into the Earth as his screams quieted to a never ending silence. Time- Illusion, False, Unforgiving- ended with him, giving a false sense of security to a King sure of an Heir's- Not Son, Not A Son Since… Since- loyalty. A cold, endless night and thick castle walls put an end to any deceptions the King might have had- The King Is Dead, Long Live The King. King Arthur- Once and Future- is no longer the land's protector, not longer the beloved Prince or awaited King. He simply is- Living, Breathing, Undead- and the subjects bend to his will as if they were grass underneath his feet.

The fates- Powerful, Worthless, Grieved, Resigned- looked down upon the land that was no longer legend and watched the King, knowing and ignorant all the same. They could see the emotion barely simmering beneath the surface- - yet they did not know how it felt, how it caused each muscle to coil tight under tanned skin or how it led to nightmare filled nights and tear soaked pillows. Because Arthur had not- Did Not- see a contradiction when it came to Merlin. He was everything, everywhere, light. He was sorcerer, dragonlord, servant- PowerPowerPowerPower. He was love, kindness, reason, selflessness.

The time is unknown- Forever- yet when they find the King strewn across his bed, face slacked in an almost peaceful expression and a bottle of Hemlock in his now lose grip the only people surprised are the people who knew Arthur- No. No Knight, Champion, Prince, King- and who he was before. The people grieved and the King's last speech- Hopeless, Endless Night. Searching Faces, Pleading. Pressure, Words, Lies- ring through the heads of both peasants and nobles alike- Pray, Pray, Pray He Was Right.

"I know that times are tough, that food is stretching thin from the sunless days, that bandits are always present, that death is ripe in the air. But we most hold onto hope, must believe that somehow, someway, things will get better. That loved ones long passed will be seen again and there will be a time when, once again, all can find peace in this world."

Thousands of years later, two teenagers meet in a tangle of limbs in the middle of the schoolyard. Neither are injured at the clumsiness on the raven haired one's part, but the blonde is hostile none the less. Yet as they yell at each other, unaware of the bemused students and the arriving teachers, the blonde's eyes run over the other's body, something akin to relief sparking in his eyes when no injuries can be found- Can't Lose You, Not Again, Never Again. Never Leave, Never Go.